I've been working on mysteries without any clue for the last couple of days. I discovered some marks on the side supports of our detached garage (as in from the house; not aloof), about mid-calf high on my leg (I'm 5'9").
I thought I smelled one of those dreaded math word problems: 'if a locomotive leaves Yakima heading south at 60 mph departing at two in the morning and another train leaves Wombat Falls at 3 in the afternoon, heading North at 45 mph, what's the conductor's name?' I have always HATED word problems and have spent most of my life unsurprised math is a four-letter word.
I've been looking for animal teeth marks on the wood, or maybe paint flecks on the noses of some of the squirrels that hang around in our backyard hoping our daughter Michelle stops by to feed them. She stands on the back steps and throws handfuls of peanuts at the rodents until her arm tires (they never do). I don't know how they know she is coming but they start to gather about two hours before she arrives.
I'd almost not be amazed if the squirrels had been involved in this, not that I'm attached to the paint job on the garage door, but it was the NOT knowing part that was making me crazy. Coming from an appointment yesterday at mid-morning and walking past my parked car I noticed on my front bumper on my side what seemed to be cake frosting at about the mid-calf level (probably about the same height if I were Richard Harris in the rain, oh no....).
Yeah, it turned out, speaking of turning, I've been creating my own zebra customized front end auto treatment while slowing widening incrementally my garage door. At least that's what I'll be telling myself I was up to when I go end up shopping for that double-wide.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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